Silent
by carolineshine22
Summary: Lavinia is silent- an Avox- a lost voice. But actions, er, fanfictions speak louder than words, don't they? What really happened to our redheaded rebel?
1. Gone in a Flash

The boy was not my friend. He was not my brother, nor my rebel lover. He was my ally, my smart-alack partner. I wasn't supposed to scream his name when the spear impaled his body. But, God, could you blame me? The spear slices through his body like butter, and the hopeless optimism he always kept in the face of danger was gone in a flash.

I glance back to the pair of hunters hiding in the bushes. They're wide eyed and gripping their weapons. I'm tempted to scream for help again, but I'm being lifted, lifted up off my feet, and my cry for help is cut off by my own shriek of surprise. I notice Darryl being lifted to, by the spear, to a different opening in the hovercraft. Goodness, I need to stop screaming. I'll bet the whole country of Panem can hear me. I'm almost at the entrance to hovercraft. My mind instantly shifts to what must be done next. I tear open my messenger's bag and blindly fumble for my pills, while tipping over in the vast net. Good God, where are they? Could they have-no-I glance down at the disappearing ground and wonder if they could have dropped out of the miniscule hole in my bag.

My pills- my suicide pills- my only chance of escape. I nearly jump out of my skin as I'm hoisted up by both arms out of the net and into the hovercraft. I'm screaming like a wild thing and flailing my legs. I feel one of them make contact with a Peacekeeper trying to detain me and he stumbles back.

Oh, God, why did Darryl have to have the gun? Hidden Stairs was having a shortage of artillery, so Darryl and I were only given one gun to share. _Oh, don't worry babe, I'll do all the shooting around here._ Why had I let him take the gun for the day? I should've never trusted him- but- he's dead.

I'm still flailing and screaming and making myself go heavy. The men retraining me are shouting for something, but I can't hear it over my screams. I go to bite the arm of the Peacekeeper who's gripping my shoulder when something sharp jams into my arm. Suddenly, everything slows down. I think I'm still screaming, but I don't know. I'm trying to keep track of reality, but even that is giving me a headache. I don't think I'm flailing anymore. I struggle to keep my eyes open, but all I can see is vivid outlines as the Peacekeepers lower me. Oh my God- I'm falling through the floor, through the hovercraft, through the forest- but I'm not bothered by it.

My head softly touches the floor, and I can faintly feel the Peacekeepers' grip on me release. It becomes easier to keep my eyes open, but I can't feel the rest of my body. Reality slowly sinks back in. I can hear voices over me, but I can't decipher what they're saying. My mind switches from tranquility to panic. My thoughts are the only things I can feel. Am I paralyzed? Am I dying? I hoped I was dying. Honestly, I would've rather been Darryl than me right now. I can make out a few words from the Peacekeepers above me- "interrogation", "water", "hour or so", "boy". I want to scream, but I can't feel my lips. That's when I hear another sound from the Peacekeepers- "vox". Oh God, oh my God help me- I'm not dying, I'm not floating- everything is making sense. A peacekeeper squats down next to me and cocks his head so my unblinking eyes are making contact with his shield goggles. He gives me a toothy grin- "hope you can swim, Avox."


	2. Under the Tracks

_"__Lavinia, this is Darryl." Commander places his hand on the boy's shoulder, nodding at me. _

_The boy flashes me a winning smile, rare in Hidden Stairs. His sandy blonde hair is streaked with dirt and blood. He's tall, taller than me, and bright eyed. He has a certain glow about him, radiance. I'm wary about him immediately. He looks around the same age as I, eighteen._

_Ignoring my obvious discontent, Commander continues. "Darryl is a new recruit fresh out of training, ready to join you on your next trip. You will see that he is very able and will be of great partnership to you on this mission. He completed training at the top of his class." _

_Darryl grins at me again and sticks out his hand. I follow the gesture, reluctantly, and we shake hands, me glaring. Darryl looks amused. "Hey ginger snap, lighten up!" I pull my hand back immediately as though it has been burned. "Lighten up, huh? You want me to lighten up? Do you know what this mission means? Do you know what happened to my last partner? Ripped to shreds by Capitol hounds. I was lucky to escape, but not after seeing the whole bloody mess unfold before my eyes! If you don't want to take this seriously than I would appreciate if you left!" I jab my finger at the exit, the staircase at the back of the room, leading up to the main floor of Lawrie's Candy Emporium. _

_Darryl purses his lips, speechless. His radiance has faltered, but only for a second. "Sorry, carrot top, didn't mean to get your panties in a bunch!" _

_I raise my eyebrows, prepared to tirade again, but Commander gives me a look. "Lavinia, quiet down! If someone hears you we're all going to be ripped apart by Capitol dogs or worse" he whispers, eying the staircase. I take a deep breath and stare at the ground, feeling Darryl's eyes burning into my hair. _

_Commander continues. "Lavinia, if you feel that the impact of Sarah's death will deter you from completing this mission, I will find someone else to go instead." _

_I shake my head, gory images of the dogs attacking Sarah racing through my mind. "I'm ready, Commander. I'm sorry for my outburst."_

_Commander turns to Darryl. "Darryl, you must understand that this is an important matter. This mission will not be easy nor will it be fun. Your fate does not rest in my hands. I will not guarantee either of you making it out alive. Lavinia is right in the sense that this is no laughing matter. You are replacing a girl who was brutally murdered by Capitol mutations on a mission very similar to this one. Knowing this, I'm sure that you are rethinking the comments you recently made."_

_Wise-cracking Darryl has gone silent, staring at his shoes, nodding. For a moment, there is silence, except for the occasional thumps of candy bags hitting the floor and loud laughing from the Capitol citizens upstairs. Commander gives a curt nod, satisfied. "You will set off at closing time, when the store is empty." _

**_…_**

I had always known the Capitol as a lively place filled with lights, color, and extravagance. When I had lived there as a child, I would marvel at the beautiful lights show they would put on every Christmas that I would watch with my parents and my sister. The Hunger Games were the best. Fireworks would set off every night and there would be free food on every corner to celebrate. I remember sitting on my father's lap in our mansion watching the Games from our private movie theater, a must for any avid Hunger Games fan, with our Avoxes waiting on us hand and foot.

It sickens me now.

But this was not the Capitol I had grown up with. It was hidden away, a stone building in a lonely desert under the Capitol's midair train tracks, windows cracking, walls caving in. The Peacekeepers are lifting me to my feet once we land. They had bound my legs and arms and gagged me while I was asleep. I was in no position to resist. But I am relieved to find the effects of whatever they have drugged me with have worn off, and I can feel my body again, although I can't use it.

The worst part, I think, is waking up and realizing that the memory of Darryl had only been a dream, and that I wasn't dead, but very well alive, and about to be tortured and turned into an Avox. I would do anything be called ginger snap and carrot top again if it meant that Darryl wasn't dead.

No, no that wasn't right- it's better that Darryl is dead. It means that no more pain will come to him. It means he won't get tortured and sucked away of his free will. But I can't help but feel an aching pain for the boy I thought I should not have missed.

As a last resort, I try to scream through my gag, but it's a hopeless attempt, and it only comes out as a muffled murmur. The Peacekeeper to my right stifles a laugh. I would do anything to not be gagged so I could spit on his finely polished shield goggles.

I drag my feet of the ground, but the Peacekeepers have no trouble dragging me across the rubbly sand. Clever, really, putting this building directly under the train tracks. No one looking out the window of a train or a plane could see us. We were completely hidden from the world. The Peacekeepers drag me to the door of the stone building and the one on my left whips out a key from his pocket. He jangles the key into the lock and the door swings open.

As soon as the door opens, I hear the screams. Horrible, animal-like screams. The room is simply a long hallway with doors on either side. I cringe as I hear the scream of what seems like a young girl ring through the hallway, only to be suddenly cut off. The sound echoes throughout the room. This is where they are going to torture me, cut out my tongue, and make me a slave. Maybe I'll get lucky and things will go a little too far and they'll kill me. I can only hope. A female voice sounds from behind me. "Room 617, Bernard. Get her set up and we'll take it from there. The Peacekeeper to my right nods, and they drag me at a swifter pace.

We stop at a door near the end of the room and the Peacekeeper, supposedly named Bernard, raps on it. A few seconds pass and it swings open. Two Peacekeepers escort a young man, dripping wet with half of his hair burned off, out of the room. The boy looks up at me and we make eye contact. He gives me a sympathetic look- _don't speak_, he mouths, and in a mere second we have crossed paths. We enter a room that's seemingly empty except for a large glace case with what looks like a rubber chair inside of it. Next to the case is a large grey metal box on a stand decorated with an array of buttons. The Peacekeepers drag me to the case and, with another key from his pocket, Bernard opens it. They push me down onto the chair. I try to stand again, fighting the weight of their hands on my shoulder, when suddenly the other Peacekeeper presses a button on the chair and two leathery bands spring out from either arm, attaching together and tightening themselves so I am strapped to the chair. I notice water droplets on the inside of the case and that the chair is damp.

Bernard reaches inside my mouth and removes my gag. As soon as it's out, I'm screaming for help, but my attempts are obviously futile. I begin to think about my family, the ones I had left behind, the ones who are still desperately searching for me, when a tall blonde woman wearing a grey suit enters the room, holding a clipboard. She nods at the Peacekeepers and they exit the room, slamming the door behind them. The lady struts over to where I am strapped to the chair, screaming.

The chill of her voice cuts my screams short.

"Lavinia Jones. We have some questions for you."


	3. The Glass Box

The woman in the grey suit shakes her head. "We've been searching for you for quite a while, Lavinia Jones. For more reasons than one. Not only because we have proof you're involved in a dangerous rebel organization set on destroying your own country, but also because your family misses you, very, very much. " She says that last part in a sickening childish voice, dripping with sarcasm.

My family. How dare she say that about my family! She didn't know my family. She never heard my sister laugh. She never witnessed the pure love that my parents shared. I'm pulling at my restraints harder, wanting nothing more than to reach through this glass box and choke her.

"I'm not going to tell you anything but this," I snarl at her. "My family didn't know anything. They thought I just ran away. They had no idea what I was doing. And that's a fact. I can assure you that I'm telling the truth, because what good would it be lying now that they're dead?"

The woman raises her brow. "So many words, on and on! You'd best speak them now, Lavinia Jones." She pauses for a second, biting her lip. "I'm sick of family talk. Let's talk about you! Maybe about what you've been doing the last six years of your life?"

I want to say more, I want to so bad; I want to defend my family. But I bite the inside of my cheek and remain silent. Silence and free will are your best friends during an interrogation. I don't have to speak. They can't make me speak. I've said too much already.

Grey Suit nods, slowly, her fingers tracing the buttons of the grey control panel. "It's time to be professional, Lavinia Jones. If you don't speak, I will hurt you. If you do, I won't."

I knew that this was coming for a while now. I knew that they were going to torture me to try and get the information they need. I've practiced this scenario over and over again in training. But still this blunt wording sends chills down my spine. This is not training. This is real life. I hope Grey Suit can't hear my heart beating nearly out of my chest.

The woman clears her throat. "The problem with these rebel groups is that they are very, very sneaky, Lavinia Jones. They are very good at hiding information. As of right now, the Capitol does not know the official name of your association. What is the name of the group you are working for?

I can feel the bands of leather strapping my into my chair digging into my wrists and the glass box I am in is getting hotter by the second. I clench my fist and am not surprised by how clammy they feel.

Silence.

Grey Suit is impatient. "I will give you one last chance. What is the name of the group you are working for?"

Silence.

Without another word, she smacks a button on the metal control panel. Suddenly, water spurts from the bottom of the box through what looks like metal drains. It's slowly filling the box and I'm taking deep breaths. _This isn't that bad, this isn't that bad, I can do this, I can hold my breath._ All my training up to this point has taught me that no matter what they do to you, remember that you have free will.

And that's when the water reaches my feet and I'm screaming. Screaming before I even know why. It's a reflex, and instinct. I'm on fire. Well, maybe not on fire, but I'm burning. This water is burning. I can see the welts on my ankles and my blood is slowly turning the water red, and I'm trying to lift up my feet but I can't, I just can't, it's going to fast, it's already at my thighs, and that isn't the worst part.

The smoke from the burning water is filling the box, and the only sort of relief I have is the single hole carved in near the top. I'm smothering and my eyes are already burning from the hot air. I'm sweating like a pig. I can't breathe; I'm breathing in smoke or steam or something that's not air. I'm sorry I can't control my thoughts it's all happening so fast oh Darryl if you could see me now-

And then it stops. Just like that the box is open and the water pooling near my hips cools. Just as I'm about to pass out. The steam is clearing from my eyes and I go to rub them only to be painfully reminded that my arms are strapped to the chair.

Grey Suit gives me a coy smile. "I don't want to hurt you, Lavinia Jones. If your family saw this they'd be in tears. Funny how that works though- you didn't seem to show concern when they were murdered, hmm? Shows what stepping out of line can do to a kid- only a kid!"

Hot tears fill my eyes and I can't stop them from running down my face. No, no, I can't cry, but I am.

She seems to take an obvious liking to her job. She runs her fingers over the buttons on the control panel once more. "Let's try this again, eh? Where are your headquarters?"

I don't want that again, the water, the heat, the smoke, the pain. Part of me is so tempted to tell. But now I'm thinking of Commander, Sarah, and Darryl-

Silence.

Grey Suit purses her lips. "You're stubborn. One more time. Where are your headquarters, Lavinia Jones?"

Fire, burn, suffocate, smoke, death, torture, heat, Commander, Sarah, Darryl, Hidden Stairs…

Silence.

I don't even see her press the button this time. It just happens. The water instantly turns from warm to scalding and it's creeping its way up my stomach. The smoke rises through my nose, through my hair, into my mouth. I scream in pain but that makes it worse as the smoke gets into my lungs, turning my yell into a coughing fit. The water is up to my neck, I look down and all I see is red, pinkish red, and my burns white. The water just barley touches my chin when I run out of air. It's caressing my lips, burning my lips, touching my nose, reaching my eyelids, and I can't, I just can't do it, I'm burning, I'm bleeding, oh please let this be over-

And it stops once more. Just as I feel like I'm escaping, the water drains to just below my nose, and I'm gulping in air, wonderful air, beautiful air. I glance at Grey Suit for a moment and then at my own body. I'm covered in burns head to toe. Bleeding, puffy, white blisters.

I'm shocked to see the water draining through the bottom of the box. I look back at Grey Suit again, confused. She looks away.

The two Peacekeepers are back in the room. They trudge to my prison and unlock the door. I ignore them and try to keep breathing through the smoke residue. Bernard presses the button on the side of the chair that removes the leather restraints. I take in a sharp breath and try to jump up, but a feel a wave of nausea and slowly sink down. Bernard and the other Peacekeeper each grab one of my arms and hoist my up until I am standing straight. They look at Grey Suit for instruction.

Grey Suit gives them a dirty look before adjusting her messy blonde bun. "Door 45. Another one may still be in there. If so, just wait. I want the procedure carried out before morning." She angrily rises to her feet and walks out of the room. The Peacekeepers lead me out of the room as well. We walk down the hall, the screams of unknown rebels ringing in my ears.


	4. The Procedure

I can still feel the steam wafting off my body as I stumble down the hall. The Peacekeepers tighten their grip on my arm and I can't help but whimper in pain as they press against my burned, welted arms. Bernard smirks and holds me tighter.

We reach the end of the hall and the other Peacekeeper whose name I haven't learned yet jangles a key into the lone door we are facing. It opens to a dark staircase. I cringe as they pull me down the stairs, my knees buckling and my swollen feet trying to keep up.

At the end of the staircase is another room similar to the one upstairs only slightly smaller. We trudge a few doors down before the Peacekeepers abruptly stop in front of a door to our right. I glance at the rusted silver plate hanging on by a loose screw. 45.

Bernard raps on the door so hard that the silver plate swings by the screw. "Is this room ready? Ms. Ramshackle gave us instructions to come here for the procedure."

Bernard's query is answered with a thundering scream from the other side of the door, making me nearly jump out of my skin. The other Peacekeeper glances at me, unfazed, gripping my arm tighter.

A high pitched male voice rings over the screams of agony. "Come in, come in! We're almost done in here!" No, I don't want to go in there, I don't want to see it, but Bernard is already turning the key in the lock and the door opens.

We open the door to the same boy I passed on my way to the interrogation. The one who told me not to speak. The one who gave me the sympathetic look. He's strapped to what looks like a dentist chair. A band of metal reaches over his head from the chair and attaches itself to the top of his mouth, forcing it open. A similar band attaching from the half circle of metal around his neck clips to the inside of his bottom teeth, forcing it down. It's hard to tell, really, because the whole concoction is covered in blood.

There's a man standing over him, wearing a white lab coat splattered in blood, and a paper mask over his face, sticking something into the boy's mouth, pulling. He glances at Bernard and the other Peacekeeper and flashes them a half smile.

"Sorry, fellas. This one's a nasty bugger!" The boy is making horrible animal-like sounds from the back of his throat. I don't want to watch this, I don't want to watch this, but I am. The boy screams one more time, and then there is silence. The man grins, triumphant. He sets the bloody tool down on the table next to him. I finally force myself to close my eyes, and I don't open them until I feel myself being handed over.

The man who removed the boy's tongue is now holding my arm. The Peacekeepers who escorted me here are now gripping the boy.

"The boy is ready for the next phase. Get him cleaned up a bit and put him with the other waiting Avoxes by the hovercraft outside. The girl will be ready shortly." The man- er- doctor flashes the Peacekeepers another one of his half smiles. The Peacekeepers nod, and turn to leave, gripping the boy by his arms. I glance at him, and we make eye contact once more.

He's short, around the same height as I, which is saying a lot, because I have always been short for my age. His hair is partially burnt off, but what's left of it is shaggy and brown with black burnt tips. He has burns too, similar to mine, bleeding and white. His mouth is still a bloody mess. He raises an eyebrow at me, the pity evident in his eyes, but the Peacekeepers turn him away and walk him out the door, slamming it behind them.

After a moment of silence, the doctor speaks. "Good evening, Lavinia! Don't worry; I'm a certified doctor…almost." He chuckles at his own joke. "You and I both know what's about to happen, so let's make this easy on both of us, eh? Please sit in the chair." He gestures to the white dentist chair, spotted with blood. I resist the urge to vomit.

Silence.

A cross look emerges on his face, but he wipes it off with another half-smile. Still smiling, he reaches into his coat pocket and removes a metal object. My eyes widen and I try to stumble out of his grip to the door, but my burns instantly ignite and I wobble in his grip. He presses the object against me and out of nowhere, hot white sparks enflame my entire body, running through my veins. I gasp and shout in pain and slowly sink to my knees. I can feel him lifting me up over his shoulder, and I'm screaming louder because it hurts so much when he touches my burns. He sets me down on the chair and suddenly, restraints are bursting out of the chair's seams.

I can feel the strip of metal reaching over my head and feeling for the roof of my mouth. The doctor approaches me and grabs my face, forcing my mouth open. I try to bite his hand. He laughs. I feel the device digging itself into the roof of my mouth and attaching itself to the backside of my bottom teeth. I can't close my mouth. I taste blood.

_This is it, Lavinia. Every rebel's worst nightmare. _

I can't move my head much, but I glance over with my eyes at the doctor. He is standing at the side of my chair, picking up the bloodstained tool he used to remove the boy's tongue. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he doesn't clean it. He stands over me with it and I am already screaming.

"This might hurt, Lavinia." The tool looks somewhat like the eyelash curler I would watch my mother use every day before taking me to school. But I doubt this doctor is going to curl my eyelashes. I'm already screaming as he puts the tool into my mouth.

The pain is worse than the hot water. This is pure agony. The device attaches itself to my tongue and is cutting in deep. The doctor is pulling hard and my blood is filling my mouth and running down my throat. I try to cough but I can't, I just can't, and here I am getting my tongue pulled out hoping I don't choke on my own blood.

I'm crying, too, crying hard, and using the only part of my body that still works to make noise- the back of my throat.

"Almost got it, Lavinia!" The doctor is screaming over my screams, and I can feel my tongue becoming looser and looser from my body. The doctor pulls again, and this time, I can't feel my tongue at all. Suddenly, the device hooked on my mouth disappears. Tears are still rolling down my cheeks. I am mute. I am silent.

The doctor gestures to sink on the arm of my chair. "Spit your blood out, Lavinia." I try, but it's difficult without a tongue, so I just bow my head over the sink, silently crying, letting the blood drip out of my mouth. And it's still coming. The doctor gives me a cup of water. I pour it in my mouth spit it out back into the sink.

"I'm going to pack your wound, Lavinia," the doctor says. "It will stop bleeding that way." He reaches into my mouth and presses a wad of something white up against the stub that was once my tongue. It surprisingly feels better. He removes his hand from my mouth and the wad sticks. I wipe the blood off my lips with my sleeve.

"See, that wasn't so bad, eh?" Oh yes it was. Someone knocks on the door and the doctor smiles.

"Right on time! This is where we say goodbye, Lavinia! A tip for ya- keep your mouth shut. People don't like seeing cut out tongues. Come in!" The doctor nods at the door as it opens.

Two Peacekeepers enter, but not Bernard and the other one. The doctor speaks. "Take her to the hovercraft, and quickly please! They're taking of in 5 to the Capitol." The Peacekeepers nod and I shakily rise from the dentist chair, my strength to resist deteriorated. The take me by my arms and lead me out of the room. I'm going home.


End file.
